


Before It Faded Away

by Nelyo



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Cruelty, Fluff, Gen, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Or Is It?, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence, maglor is mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23558857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelyo/pseuds/Nelyo
Summary: “Get up.” The figure’s voice was filled with malice, and the chuckle that freely flew from his mouth expressed just how he felt at Maedhros’ display of patheticness.Maglor interrupts Maedhros' only way of seeing Fingon.This is not nice.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maedhros | Maitimo, Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor | Makalaurë, Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Before It Faded Away

**Author's Note:**

> Holy Days - Sean McConnell. Ignore the country and listen to the chorus.
> 
> Sorry.

_“Don’t move.”_

_He looked upon his cousin then._

_A gentle hand was placed on his cheek._

_He furrowed his brows ever so slightly, indicating his confusion. In an instant, a warm thumb brushed over the arched, red brow._

_“Stop, it doesn’t suit you.”_

_Maitimo couldn’t help the chuckle that resonated from deep within his chest at Findekáno’s words. He looked deep into those clear blue eyes, admiring the focus in which they stared at his forehead, thumb trying to smooth the crease between his brows._

_The evening in Tirion was warm, windless. Malinalda’s last lights were cast from behind the great hill of Túna. Farther away from the city, towards the open sea and the white beaches, it felt like a different world. There were no brothers, no father teaching one all manners of things one didn’t care for, no excessive amount of cousins disturbing the peace. The evening on the hill of Túna, lying in the tall grass, was as if from another world._

_Maitimo lay on his back, his red hair spread about his head like a halo. He had now turned his face towards Findekáno, who lay on his side, right hand beneath his head._

_“You will wrinkle, Maitimo”, Findekáno said in a serious voice, but as his eyes traveled slowly to meet Maitimo’s, his gaze revealed the mirth behind the words. Findekáno could never be too serious with his favorite cousin, for looking upon him caused too great a joy in his heart._

_The hand lingered on Maitimo’s pale skin, brushing his cheek in a gentle caress._

_The crease on his brow disappeared. They both knew he had been forcing it on purposely. It was Findekáno who chuckled next._

_“There, that’s much better.”_

_“When we will be thousands of years old, I will have you to thank for my beauty, for you will not allow me to frown.” Maitimo’s voice was filled with laughter, but it was genuine simultaneously._

_“Everyone else will have me to thank as well, for your beauty is a gift for this world. It was not a mere chance that made Nerdanel name you Maitimo.”_

_“Oh, stop it, Finno. Where is all this coming from?” He was used to compliments, being the eldest and the “well-shaped-one” of the sons of Fëanáro, but he had to admit he was starting to get slightly flustered by Findekáno’s attention. He tried turning his face towards the sky again but was stopped by his cousin’s soft touch._

_“Don’t move. Just let me look at you.”_

_The evening was a bliss, glad in the fading golden light of Malinalda, filled with soft, loving touches and voices, gentle whispers and caresses. The world was beautiful. They were beautiful._

“Get up!”

His eyes were open in an instant. A hand, which was no longer there, was reaching for a dagger fastened on his belt, which was no longer there. He realized his mistake as the stump touched the soft fabric of his tunic. His second mistake he realized when his eyes focused on the man standing at the doorway to his room. 

“Get up!” The figure’s voice was filled with malice, and the chuckle that freely flew from his mouth expressed just how he felt at Maedhros’ display of patheticness. 

“And why should I, Makalaurë?” Maedhros sounded tired, not spiteful, not angry. His brother’s amilessë rolled beautifully on his tongue. He leaned his head back against the backrest of his burgundy velvet chair and watched his brother through eyes half-lidded.

“You were meant to teach the boys in the morn!” Maglor’s face was just as heated as his voice. His hand waved vigorously in the air towards the general direction of the courtyard. He had truly lost the ability to keep himself contained. Maedhros didn’t bat an eye at his brother’s frenzy.

_Fingers gently swept over the tendons in his neck, a thumb brushed his lower lip_.

The dream came back to him like a kick in the gut. Maglor saw his brother’s face pale, but only stepped forward once more. Maedhros had barely enough time to try and compose himself at least to his previous composure a few moments ago, which, frankly, wasn’t very composed, before a boot-clad foot kicked both his feet down from the small stool they were stretched on top of. 

Maglor’s dark hair floated around his face as he loomed over his elder brother. 

_A strand of dark curls touched his chin._

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, shutting the hostile picture in front of him out. He could still feel the dream on his skin. 

_“Look at me, Maitimo.”_

“Look at me, Maitimo _._ ” His name was twisted, wrenched into an ugly snarl in Maglor’s mouth. A foul mockery of what the name used to sound like on his brother’s lips. 

He looked upon Maglor then. What had happened to Makalaurë? His brother who had always sung gentle songs to their little brothers, who had always helped Maedhros take care of them in the light of the Two, who had, for years, endured his elder brother cracking piece by piece, only to be put back together by him alone. Maybe that was precisely what had happened. 

It did not matter how cruel he had become towards Maedhros, it was only fitting considering how cruel Maedhros had been towards him, what mattered was that he was not cruel towards the twins and he was not cruel towards Maedhros when the twins were present. They were just into their twenties and could handle more from their guardian, but they did not deserve cruelty. Of that they had already seen enough in their lifetime. 

The Oath was taking its toll, years upon years of searching, slaying, dying. Only the eldest sons of Fëanáro were left standing. Maybe it was meant for them to eventually turn bitter against each other, so much death had they caused upon their kin and brothers. Maedhros did not want to believe it had been a conscious decision to hate his brother. At least not for him; ever since the death of—

Maglor had been quiet for some time now and Maedhros focused his tired eyes to truly look at his face. 

_August features and a gentle curve of lips. High cheeks. Strong, noble jaw._

The expression he saw on his younger’s face chilled him. 

“You have been drowning yourself in wine again this night.” The words were nothing but a hiss between clenched teeth. 

_Yes._

“No.”

“Do not dare to lie to me as I can see it on you plainly now. I doubt you would even be able to walk a straight line were you not busying yourself with being absolutely indolent!”

_The final rays of Malinalda shone like a crown made of pure light behind his head. The golden ornaments in his hair looked as if they were blazing. He was laughing._

“Are you still drunk?” 

_Yes._

“No.”

“What have I done, Eru, whatever have I done to deserve such a pitiful, useless creature as my brother.” Maglor grabbed the sides of his head and spoke towards the sky, his voice sounded genuinely desperate. 

_He placed his hand gently onto his cheek, feeling the smooth skin under his fingers. Maitimo closed his eyes. He could have easily fallen asleep lying on the grass, nothing but Findekáno’s touch as his blanket._

_“You are beautiful.”_

Maglor slapped him hard onto his cheek with the back of his hand. Maedhros was fairly certain he had wielded rings. He opened his eyes to a fuming brother and slowly lifted his fingers to sweep at the tender spot on his cheekbone that sluggishly wept crimson. 

“You saw him again, didn’t you?” His anger quickly melded into something entirely different. Epicaricacy. He was almost smiling. 

_Yes._

“No.”

“What do you believe you will achieve by not letting him go?” Maglor’s question almost sounded like it was laced with actual concern. Almost. 

“Do you delude yourself with imaginations that he will someday wander back from the Halls to fall once again into your arms?” He scoffed. 

Maedhros sat quietly. 

“And what would happen then? You and him would love each other until the world is made anew?”

_Oh yes._

Maglor suddenly leaned heavily onto the armrests of Maedhros’ chair, effectively blocking his way towards any escape. He loomed over his elder brother, staring him without a blink. 

“He is dead.” Every word was pronounced with cutting precision.

“He is never coming back. And would there exist a world in which he would, he would never love you once he saw what you have become. _Maitimo._ I believe mother was mistaken after all. You are horrendous to look upon. ”

Maedhros’ face was blank, his expressions shifted somewhere deep, concealed by a gently placed mask. One could only wish the same mask would hide the eyes, but alas, the eye is the mirror into one’s fëa. And Maedhros could not mind the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes. It was not the first time Maglor saw him cry. 

Maglor leaned away from the armrests, taking a long silent look at his pathetic brother. 

“No one will love you.”

He walked away.

Maedhros’ tears dried on his cheeks.

_“I love you.”_

_His voice was gentle as ever, melodic, true._

_Maitimo opened his eyes to look deep into Findekáno’s. He was beautiful. Shining pure golden light like Malinalda herself. He would not heed the fading rays from the Tree when he had his own light._

_“And I love you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> My notes for this fic were "maglor bursts in, wakes Maedhros and tells him he’s focken ugly ;_;" 
> 
> I'd be happy to hear your thoughts! :)


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